


Of Redheads, Guitarists, and Monster Hunters.

by MadiYasha



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: F/M, Gen, onesided crushes on dipper & mabels parts
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-06-18
Updated: 2013-07-15
Packaged: 2017-12-20 06:35:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 3,898
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/884084
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MadiYasha/pseuds/MadiYasha
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>30 "Drabbles" about Wendy, Robbie, and Dipper, with maybe a few others here and there. Pairings listed at the beginning of each chapter. If you send in requests and I like them, I may write them after the initial 30 I have planned, so don't be afraid. Done for the 30 Day Drabble challenge.</p><p>[ON INDEFINITE HIATUS]</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. beginning

**Author's Note:**

> Usual disclaimers on my Gravity Falls fic: I wrote this sometime in 2013, when we had less than a season of Gravity Falls. 
> 
> As such, I wrote whole backstories for characters that later got different ones. Try not to worry about it, too much.
> 
> \---
> 
> pairing: wenbie
> 
> tw for minor slur at the beginning

Gravity Falls' pine-crested skyline had been blanketing Robert for almost two years now, and he had not sensed a hesitation or remote dwindle in the hatred that came with it. He was certain that in his many months at GFMS that not a single soul had given him much more than a shove and a hiss of " _move it, emo faggot._ " in the dimly-lit hallways. He was almost 14 now, and had contemplated many times how to quickly kill himself before high school.

It was a dark path for a kid to be headed down, and the saddest thing that occurred to Robert was that by anyone else's standards, he had seen far darker. In Colorado he lived off of bread in the back of his mom's run-down van, and didn't keep friends for long between apartment-jumping and getting suspended for acting out. But he was with his mom, and he was happier than he could ever be, and at least he had friends for a while.

He didn't expect to get much out of the guitar that was bought for him for his 12th birthday, it was acoustic and the sound of it didn't always appeal to him-but he found that he could at least teach himself to play before he could beg his grandparents for an electric one, and practice never hurt. It was against a brick wall that he sat, every day, with a pick in his gloved hand and a focused expression on his face, and the residents of the middle school never batted an eyelash at the greasy black-haired teen.

There was a shaky shift in the chord progression and he pulled his knees inward. The chains and studs lining his shorts jingled and provided a clanky background noise to the tune he was playing, and he let out an unamused sigh. The ground below him was cold and deteriorated back into the earth as he sat limp on it. Days passed this way.

"FREEBIRD!"

He was immediately jolted back to reality when a voice from a few feet away shouted what he assumed was more mockery at him. The culprit was a horrifically tall girl with frizzy red hair pulled into a ponytail that barely tamed it at all, clothed in a loose flannel shirt that almost went down to her knees, which were festooned with scrapes and bruises. She was nothing particularly interesting, and his impulse was to tell her to fuck off.

"Fuck off," He told her.

To his surprise, she grinned with perfectly straight teeth and started taking quick, enthusiastic steps toward him, still speaking.

"Ha, sorry man, nothing personal, just teasin'." She sat down, having no qualms with totally invading his personal space. "For real though, I see you out here every day, you oughta set up a change bin, or something."

Robert boredly flipped his hair, hoping to get some shelter from the stranger trying to have a conversation with him.

"You don't talk much, do you?"

"Who's there to talk to." It was a rhetorical question.

"I'm talking to you, aren't I?"

"Unfortunately."

"Pfft, punkass. But seriously? No one's ever told you how rad your guitar skills are?"

He didn't have a response for her-he'd already made it perfectly clear that no one gave a shit about him and the mere act of her pretending to was making him all kinds of weirded out. He shrugged.

"What do you listen to?"

The boy looked at his hands and aimlessly started listing artists. "I dunno. Alternative? Emo, rock, you know... 30 Seconds to Mars, MCR, FOB... s-sometimes I like to listen to classic rock, too..."

"Dude," She said. "Beatles?"

"I mean, how could you not? Especially when you're stuck on acoustic..."

"So you can play me up some Harrison. Like, right now."

He squinted, looking up thoughtfully. "Harrison, not so much... uh... McCartney?"

"Wing it, Paulie."

He immediately melted into the first few chords of Yesterday, far too nervous to sing, but the girl held an amazed expression on her face, nonetheless. She hummed along, obviously too shy to sing herself, (so at least they had that in common.) In retrospect, he had no idea why he so easily warmed up to her-maybe music was the easiest way into his heart, or maybe it was her boundless charisma. But even when he'd mess up and his fingers would slip, even when he'd have to change frets and take little pauses to coordinate himself, she was lit up by what she'd referred to as his "talent."

"You're so awesome at that!" She beamed when he finished. "Man, how come we never talked before this?"

His face darkened slightly, and he broke eye contact. "I, uh... don't stand out too much."

"I've been here almost my entire life, there's no way I can't know you!"

"I moved here a couple years ago," He explained. "From... Denver..."

"There we go, that's why." She nodded. "Well, whatever, bro! We're totally friends now, will you be here tomorrow after lunch? Same place?"

He blinked. She certainly was persistent. "Uh. Yeah. That's... usually how it is."

"Rad!" The bell rang, and she whipped her ponytail around in whatever direction her next class was. "I'll be there! Hey, and I'll bring some of my friends!"

She started running back inside, and Robert stood there, completely flabbergasted at how sudden this supposed "friendship" had happened. He barely remembered what friends were, let alone how to _make_ them.

The redhead stopped running, and quickly shouted back at him with her hands cupping her mouth. "I'm Wendy, by the way! Who the hell are you?"

"I, guh..." _Why on earth am I so flustered?_ He thought before shouting back. "I'm Robert!"

"Sweet!" She waved, and ran back off, still looking in his direction. "See ya tomorrow, Robbie!"

'Robbie' stood there, oblivious to the time in passing he was wasting, heart beating like a jackhammer, pale face dyed _beet red_.


	2. accusation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> pairing: brief mentions of mabbie/wendip

"I can't believe you!"

Mabel flinched when she heard the pained crack in her brother's voice. He never really shouted-it just wasn't something he could muster up. But there was an angry, betrayed sense of heartbreak dripping from the words as they left his mouth, and she wished, with all her talents, that keeping secrets from her twin was one of them.

"Dipper..."

"After everything I've been through!" He kept on yelling. "After all the things you watched me go through, Mabel! How could you do this to me?"

"Dipper, it isn't my fault!"

"Yes it is!"

"No, it _isn't!_ "

Her brother had tears in his eyes now, and she could tell he was trying to blink them back, but his voice ached with the sadness he refused to let slip out. "This has to be revenge. You hate me, Mabel... it's finally happened..." He slumped down on his bed.

"Hey, Dipper..." She sat down next to him, and he stiffened when she put her hand on his shoulder and started rubbing circles in his back. It made her feel sick how he flinched at her touch, how this had hurt him that much. "Look, I could never hate you, alright? Just please, trust me..."

The tears finally came, and still, she felt awful for things that were out of her control. "I just... I already lost her to him. I can't lose you too, Mabel."

"You're never gonna lose me," Mabel took her brothers hat off and held him close to her heart, petting his hair to soothe him like she was so used to doing. "I can't help who I like, okay? Some part of me sees something in Robbie that I just... I don't like him, okay? But my heart does, and I knew it was going to hurt you. That's why I kept it a secret, Dipper, honest."

"How long?"

She bit her lip. "Uh... I guess since that day we were all in the Shack alone and you ran off with Wendy," The girl sighed. "I was lonely, and... he and I started talking about art, and it just kind of took off. I felt something, the kind of stuff I felt with all those other boys. I don't know how. I just did."

Her twin sniffled pitifully and alligned their perfectly symmetrical eyes. "Is..." He trailed off.

"C'mon. Use your words."

"I-Is this how you feel... when I'm with Wendy?"

There was a pause, and Dipper's anxiety filled the gaps in between their conversation.

"I'm sorry."

"No, no, Dip..." She hugged him harder. "I get lonely sometimes, but it doesn't hurt for too long. I... I understand that this is the first time you've ever felt like this about someone. You always put up with my crushes! I can put up with one of yours."

He was silent.

"Besides! I love Wendy! She's awesome and nice and funny and I totally see why you like her! Don't worry, alright?"

Dipper's shoulders sunk again, and he sighed. "I need carbonated sugar."

Without hesitation, Mabel perked up and scrambled downstairs, immediately returning with seemingly the only soda brand that stores in Gravity Falls carried.

They cracked open their Pitt in unison, and she wrapped her free arm around him again, trying to force her smile to him through osmosis. It was proving to be futile, so she raised her can.

"Hey," She said softly. "A toast."

"What to?"

She squinted for a moment. "To enjoying our summer and not letting stupid crushes split us up."

For the first time all day, Dipper smiled.

_Clink._


	3. restless

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> pairing: wendip

Sleeping in the summertime was hard enough as is, he reflected. Even in the wet and cold pacific northwest, summer heat trapped itself in the floorboards and seeped up into the attic where Dipper lay awake, making itself known. He slept with the covers off, most nights, if he was able to sleep at all. His hair was always greasy and it stuck to the back of his neck and itched like hell and the pillows and blankets and mattresses provided by their oh-so-generous great uncle were just as bad.

Sleeping in the summertime was hard enough as is. Why, _god why_ , did it have to get harder?

Dipper rolled onto his back and stared at the ceiling, his thoughts occupied with an uncomfortable plethora of things, despite them all somehow being the same. He was thinking about that morning, mostly-when Grunkle Stan had left everyone in the Shack to run errands, and Wendy had unveiled a secret ladder to the roof where she commonly snuck off to slack off. It was a typical enough day, but something was off.

There was something, but he couldn't pinpoint what, that was totally different about Wendy that day-or at least, the Wendy he claimed to know. He'd been playing the scene over and over in his head for hours now; she'd picked up a pine cone and chucked it at a totem pole 15 feet away with such intense fervor that Dipper had no idea how such a tiny girl could've managed it. And when she reeled back, saw the mark made, and beamed out a ' _yess!_ ' through her teeth, he couldn't help but smile and fall into the whirring vortex that was her enthusiasm. When he missed the shot and set off a car alarm, she saw his embarrassment as a victory, and extended her hand out for a high five, and-

There, _there _, that's always the part where he felt his heart skip a beat. He'd analyzed and overanalyzed and he still didn't understand it. The summer lit her hair and she sparkled, it was positively radiant-he could see every fleck of green in her eyes and the shape of every freckle that framed them. How her smile was always so relaxed, had it always been that way?-he swallowed-had she always been that... _beautiful?___

__What was it about the way the breeze hit her right as he looked up, how the clouds parted and the sun shined and he kind of felt his head go fuzzy? Was it just that before, she seemed so lazy and unmotivated, and suddenly she was shining with zeal and exuberance? He'd witnessed a metamorphosis, he concluded, and this Wendy that had been hiding all along... he couldn't stop thinking about her. He adored it. He adored the ache in his heart, he adored the butterflies violently moshing and banging against the walls of his stomach, he adored how he hadn't felt like this since that time in the 3rd grade he was convinced he saw Bigfoot. Dipper was bursting with these emotions and he couldn't handle it, but he adored it-and in that instance, his mind shoved forward and played that part of the day that his heart had never really gotten to._ _

___"Uh-ohh~" Mabel chimed, grinning the hardest she could. "Somebody's in looove!"_ _ _

___"Yeah right! I just think Wendy's cool, okay?" There was an anxious feeling bubbling in his throat and all the way down to his chest, and he picked the words carefully. "It's not like I lay awake at night thinking about her!"_ _ _

__The tween's eyes shot open wider, memorizing the patterns in the wood ceiling hanging above him, and he felt his entire face heat up as he laid there motionless._ _

___"...uh-oh."_ _ _


	5. snowflake

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> pairing: general teensfic and some wenbie

Robbie woke up that morning to two potential oddities; one-his phone had jolted him from REM approximately 3 hours after school should've started, and two-his alarm was curiously turned off. The teen started to panic, prepared to leap from the warmth of his black comforter, throw on a band tee, and dance into skinny jeans in record time-before he actually took a moment to come back down to earth and squint the sleep away, reading the tiny words adorning the text that woke him up.

_**THIS IS A MASS TEXT:** everyone to thompsons housing development. were going to enjoy this shit!_

Robbie raised an eyebrow at Wendy's oddly vague message, and stepped out of bed surprisingly well rested, pawing at the nightstand for his keys. Lazily, he traversed to the window and threw open his curtains. As soon as they parted he flinched and snapped his eyes shut, cringing at the unnatural brightness radiating from outside.

_Oh._

He slowly blinked his lids back open and stared at the clumps of white falling from the sky, an overcast mess typical of Oregon. Made enough sense, he figured. His grandparents found out it was a snow day, and, charitable as always, turned off his alarm so he could sleep in.

When the initial shock died down, Robbie realized he was ecstatic. Snow meant no school. Snow in Gravity Falls meant more and more snow, constantly, because _that's mountain towns for you_. This was going to send the entire town into a downward spiral of ice and snow for a week at least, and all the teachers' lesson plans would fall apart. _Perfect._

He tried to hide his grin as he threw on clothes and stormed out the door, electing to just wing it with the garbage heap he called a van ("Her name is the _Batmobile_ , thank you very much.") and hope he didn't crash. Within minutes he was there, and in the clearing that at one point was a culdesac nestled in Thompson's still-in-production housing development, he saw a crowd of people he had grown to love and tolerate.

"Dude, that's a fucking welt, look what you did to my beautiful manly arms!"

"Cry it up, man, you're just mad that you lost."

"DUDE."

"LEE."

" _DUDE_. YOU CAN'T PUT YOUR SNOWBALLS IN THE FREEZER. THAT'S CHEATING!"

Wendy was leaned over Tambry, excitedly muttering something along the lines of 'ok, now hashtag it as #dipshits in their natural habitat...' and Thompson was hiding in a pathetic clump he had dubbed an igloo after getting hit with one too many potentially frozen snowballs and paid several dollars to eat a snowcone made of soy sauce.

"Hey Robbie!" Wendy grinned. "Was wondering when you were gonna show up, sleepyhead."

"Says the girl who needs 7 alarms and the force of at least 4 dudes to drag her out of bed..."

"You wanna go, man?" She puffed up her chest and punched him in the arm. "I win."

"I call foul."

"Join the loser's club, V." Wendy pointed to Lee with a wicked smile, and Robbie couldn't help but smirk himself, picking up a fistfull of snow and shoving it down the back of her shirt.

She let out an abnormal shriek and shoved him, screaming as it melted and made its way out of her clothes. Robbie ran-- _fast_ \--while his victim fought back and pelted him with snowballs, laughing the entire time.

It broke out into another full-blown war, adding Thompson to the fray when Nate destroyed his "igloo" Godzilla style, all the while carrying Lee on his shoulders. (Tambry would tell you later that it got her at least 5 more subscribers on YouTube.)

When their lungs had near crystallized and they were sniffling back the cold, the lot of them collapsed in coats not near heavy enough atop the snowdrifts and breathed a collective sigh, puffing warmth into the air. Tomorrow was a recovery day, their hive-mind said-of video games in Robbie's mansion and drinking hot cocoa by one of his fireplaces. But for now, this was good enough.

"You guys wanna go inside and like, get some tea?"

They all made gagging noises at Thompson.

"Dude, wake up and smell the Starbucks, you live in Oregon now."

He let out a sigh and jingled his mom's keys. "Okay, fine, we'll go to the IGA Cafe and get your precious coffee. All in?"

Everyone shouted yeahs and hell yeahs and ran off to the van, with Wendy and Robbie trailing behind. In-between shivers, he felt her quietly lace her frozen fingers with his beneath their jackets, and he couldn't help but blush.

"How romantic would you find it if I wrote your name in the snow with my pee?" He smiled his typical shit-eating grin.

"Not nearly as romantic as you shutting up and letting me enjoy this moment we're having."

"It's a challenge, definitely..." He squeezed her hand tighter. "...but for you, babe? Anything."

Wendy smiled contentedly and leaned on him all the way to the cafe, nestled in the backseat. It was freezing-she noticed-but she'd never felt so warm.


	6. haze

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> pairing: wendip

Her brother didn't know it, but Mabel had come up with a word for the temporary madness he fell into whenever he was around Wendy-she called it The Haze.

It was mostly so she could find something, anything, to describe the personality he took on whenever he'd get within several feet of the older girl. He didn't change, per se, he was still normal old Dipper-but he was so obviously enamoured that he couldn't help but be a little different. It was the way he looked at his sneakers and wiped his sweaty hands on the inside of his vest pockets, or how he'd talk faster and whisper the things he was too scared to say when he was sure Wendy couldn't hear him. Dipper didn't talk about his emotions, too often (he and Wendy had that in common) but when he did let something sentimental slip to Mabel, the word that always showed up was 'fuzzy.' Wendy made him feel fuzzy in his head, in his heart, every single inch of him was overcome with ridiculously love-struck fuzz.

In a way, Mabel envied The Haze. She envied her brother. It was something she was used to at times-there were just so many things that he was better or more skilled at than her. But most of all, she wondered what it would feel like to just atone yourself to one person. Her affection was boundless, and she flitted from person to person often, sparing very few from her crushes and friendship, while Dipper inevitably latched on to one person and spent the entire summer following her around like a baby duck. The way he described it to her seemed so different from what she was used to feeling, and she wondered if it was just another thing making them total opposites, or if Dipper was experiencing something entirely different.

Sometimes she'd contemplate in her head, the differences between "love" and "in love." It always ended in her dismissing it, thinking that there was no way on earth she could possibly know the difference. But one night, after witnessing her twin brother staring at Wendy from afar with a relaxed smile on his face, the topic was broached again.

Dipper had never been a relaxed person, but there he was, gazing at this girl with half-lidded eyes and grinning so much that she could tell his cheeks hurt. In 12 years she'd never seen Dipper look at anyone or anything like that. She became self-aware, again-had she ever done that? To anyone she'd ever liked, spanning across literal years?

She could see Wendy's mannerisms rubbing off on Dipper, at times. He would smile more, laugh more, the knots in his shoulders seemed looser and he worried less about every little thing. Sure, he would become downright paranoid when anything tried to take Wendy out of the equation, but overall he was content. The Haze had afflicted him and put him on cloud 9, and even when Mabel was lonely, watching her brother from afar, she could tell that he was experiencing something magnificent.

Loving was something Mabel did easily and freely, that she was sure of. But Dipper? Dipper was In Love. Falling so hard and so fast that she didn't even know what to do with him. Sometimes she could see him get lost in that hazy cloud that crowned his head, but she knew that if it ever turned poison, she would be the first to pull him out.


	7. flame

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> pairing: genfic about wendy.

She was fire.

Born from wood and iron and the strength of man, she came into the world a burst of exuberance and simmered down into a friendly warmth. Present, but only crackling in the corner every so often, keeping the mood light and the residents alive.

On occasion, she'd be thrown the right fuel to flare up into a brilliant flame, illuminating the darkness that so often lingered in the back of all her comrades' minds. Some of them gave bark and paper, others doused her in oil until she seared off their frowns. It was in the way her eyes burned, it was in the way her hair shone like embers in the light of the sunset.

Sometimes she became a torch, guiding her friends into the dark of the night, the key to their adventure, the glow that they needed to move onward. These people were her life force, they breathed the oxygen she survived on, existed so that she could live in symbiosis with them. She was born to help them, and they for her.

There were those who would compare her brightness to destruction, curse the burning footsteps that trailed behind in her wake. Few could see that what she radiated and burned with was not carnage-the char and smoke that lined her happiness was life. _Energy_. She was a living, breathing, **burning** heartbeat.

Wendy Corduroy was fire. The more you threw at her, the stronger she became, and nothing on the face of this earth could ever put her out.


End file.
